Fake Spears

It was a week or so before they let us play with "spears", thick heavy staffs with sponges at one end.

"In the near future," Hastur said, "you will be able to soak those in blood and mark your hits. But for today, you're just going to practice, with a pose like so."

He held his shield up, the spear resting along the top rim. It was a highly defensive posture.

"Like this, for now." he said. "We're still working on arm strength and endurance. You won't fight like this, eventually. But for now, this pose is where you start."

It wasn't scripted; we poked and stabbed and blocked, and swept the staves to the side when we had to. Oh, didn't I say? Whomever scored three "points" was the winner; losers tasted the whip three times and got sat down to watch. Break posture? Three lashes, and sit down to watch. Sure, the leather harness took half the punishment, but nine health is still three areas of burning pain.

Ajax finished me first, single blow to the eye.